The Count of Monte-Cristo/Volume 2/Chapter 31
CHAPTER XXXI
ITALY: SINDBAD THE SAILOR
OWARD the commencement of the year 1838, two young men belonging to the first society of Paris, the Viscount Albert de Morcerf, and the Baron Franz d'Epinay, were at Florence. They had agreed to see the Carnival at Rome that year, and that Franz, who for the last three or four years had inhabited Italy, should act as cicerone to Albert.
As it is no inconsiderable affair to spend the Carnival at Rome, especially when you have no great desire to sleep on the Piazza del Popolo or the Campo Vaccino, they wrote to Signor Pastrini, the proprietor of the Hôtel de Londres, Piazza d'Espagna, to reserve comfortable apartments for them. Host Pastrini replied that he had only two rooms and a cabinet al secondo piano, which he offered at the low charge of a louis per diem. They accepted his offer; but wishing to make the best use of the time that was left, Albert started for Naples. As for Franz, he remained at Florence.
After having passed several days here, when he had walked in the Eden called the Cascine, when he had passed two or three evenings at the houses of the nobles of Florence, he took a fancy into his head, having already visited Corsica, the cradle of Bonaparte, to visit Elba, the halting-place of Napoleon.
One evening then, he loosened a bark from the iron ring that secured it to the port of Leghorn, laid himself down, wrapped in his cloak, at the bottom, and said to the crew,—"To the isle of Elba!"
The bark shot out of the harbor like a bird, and the next morning Franz disembarked at Porto Ferrajo. He traversed the island, after having followed the traces which the footsteps of the giant have left, and reëmbarked at Marciana.
Two hours after, he again landed at Pianosa, where he was assured red partridges abounded. The sport was bad; — Franz only succeeded in killing a few partridges, and, like every unsuccessful sportsman, he returned to the boat very much out of temper.
"Ah, if your excellency chose," said the captain, "you might have capital sport."
"Where?"
"Do you see that island?" continued the captain, pointing to a conical pile that rose from out the indigo-blue sea.
"Well! what is this island?"
"The island of Monte-Cristo."
"But I have no permission to shoot over this island."
"Your excellency does not require a permission, for the island is uninhabited."
"Ah, indeed!" said the young man. "A desert island in the midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity."
"It is very natural; this isle is a mass of rocks, and does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation."
"To whom does this island belong?"
"To Tuscany."
"What game shall I find there?"
"Thousands of wild goats."
"Who live upon the stones, I suppose," said Franz, with an incredulous smile.
"No, but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of the crevices of the rocks."
"Where can I sleep?"
"On shore, in the grottoes, or on board in your cloak. Besides, if your excellency pleases, we can leave as soon as the chase is finished. We can sail as well by night as by day, and if the wind drops we can use our oars."
As Franz had sufficient time, and besides, had no longer his apartments at Rome to seek after, he accepted the proposition. Upon his answer in the affirmative, the sailors exchanged a few words together in a low tone. "Well!" asked he, "what! is there any difficulty to be surmounted?"
"No," replied the captain, "but we must warn your excellency that the island is contumacious."
"What do you mean?"
"That Monte-Cristo, although uninhabited, yet serves occasionally as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from Corsica, Sardinia, and Africa, and that if anything betrays that we have been there, we shall have to perform quarantine for six days on our return to Leghorn."
"The devil! that is quite another thing; rather a long time too."
"But who will say your excellency has been to Monte-Cristo?"
"Oh, I shall not," cried Franz.
"Nor I, nor I," chorused the sailors.
"Then steer for Monte-Cristo."
The captain gave his orders, the helm was put up, and the bark was soon sailing in the direction of the island. Franz waited until all was finished, and when the sail was filled, and the four sailors had taken their places, — three forward and one at the helm, — he resumed the conversation.
"Graetano," said he to the captain, "you tell me Monte-Cristo serves as a refuge for pirates, who are, it seems to me, a very different kind of game from the goats."
"Yes, your excellency; and it is true."
"I knew there were smugglers, but I thought that since the capture of Algiers, and the destruction of the regency, pirates only existed in the romances of Cooper and Captain Marryat."
"Your excellency is mistaken; there are pirates, like the bandits who were believed to have been exterminated by Pope Leo XII., and who yet every day rob travelers at the gates of Rome. Has not your excellency heard that the French chargé d'affaires was robbed six months ago within five hundred paces of Velletri?"
"Oh, yes, I heard that."
"Well, then, if, like us, your excellency lived at Leghorn, you would hear, from time to time, that a little merchant vessel, or an English yacht that was expected at Bastia, at Porto Ferrajo, or at Civita Vecchia, has not arrived. No one knows what has become of it, but, doubtless, it has struck on a rock and foundered. Now, this rock it has met has been a long and narrow boat, manned by six or eight men, who have surprised and plundered it, some dark and stormy night, near some desert and gloomy isle, as bandits plunder a carriage at the corner of a wood."
"But," asked Franz, who lay wrapped in his cloak at the bottom of the bark, "why do not those who have been plundered complain to the French, Sardinian, or Tuscan governments!"
"Why?" said Gaetano, with a smile.
"Yes, why?
"Because, in the first place, they transfer from the vessel to their own boat whatever they think worth taking; then they bind the crew hand and foot, they attach to every one's neck a four-and-twenty-pound ball, a large hole is pierced in the vessel's bottom, and then they leave her. At the end of ten minutes the vessel begins to roll, labor, and then sink; then one of the sides plunges and then the other; it rises and sinks again; suddenly a noise like the report of a cannon is heard — it is the air blowing up the deck; then the boat struggles like a drowning man, becoming heavier every moment; soon the water rushes out of the scupper-holes like a whale spouting, the vessel gives a last groan, spins round and round, and disappears, forming a vast whirlpool in the ocean, and then all is over; so that in five minutes nothing but the eye of God can see the vessel where she lies at the bottom of the tranquil sea. Do you understand now," said the captain, "why no complaints are made to the Government, and why the vessel does not arrive at the port?"
It is probable that if Gaetano had related this previous to proposing the expedition, Franz would have hesitated ere he accepted it, but now that they had started, he thought it would be cowardly to draw back. He was one of those men who do not rashly court danger, but if danger presents itself, combat it with the most unalterable sangfroid — he was one of those calm and resolute men who look upon a danger as an adversary in a duel, who, calculating his movements, study his attacks; who retreat sufficiently to take breath, but not to appear cowardly; who, understanding all their advantages, kill at a single blow.
"Bah!" said he, "I have traveled through Sicily and Calabria — I have sailed two months in the Archipelago, and yet I never saw even the shadow of a bandit or a pirate."
"I did not tell your excellency this to deter you from your project," replied Gaetano, "but you questioned me, and I have answered; that's all."
"Yes, and your conversation is most interesting; and as I wish to enjoy it as long as possible, steer for Monte-Cristo."
Nevertheless, they were rapidly approaching the end of the voyage. The wind blew strongly, and the bark sailed six or seven knots an hour. As they approached the isle seemed to rise in a larger mass from the bosom of the sea, and they could already distinguish, through the limpid atmosphere of the declining day, the rocks heaped on one another, like bullets in an arsenal, in whose crevices they could see the purple earth and the green trees that were growing. As for the sailors, although they appeared perfectly tranquil, yet it was evident that they were on the alert, and that they carefully watched the glassy surface over which they were sailing, and on which a few fishing-boats, with their white sails, were alone visible, floating like gulls on the surface of the waves.
They were within fifteen miles of Monte-Cristo when the sun began to set behind Corsica, whose mountains appeared against the sky, and showing their rugged peaks in bold relief; this mass of stones, like the giant Adamastor, rose threateningly above the bark, from which it shaded the sun that gilded its upper parts. By degrees the shadow rose from the sea, and seemed to drive before it the last rays of the expiring day. At last the reflection rested on the summit of the mountain, where it paused an instant, like the fiery crest of a volcano; then the shadow, slowly rising, gradually covered the summit as it had covered the base, and the isle now only appeared to be a gray mountain that grew continually darker; half an hour after, and the night was quite dark.
Fortunately the mariners were used to these latitudes, and knew every rock in the Tuscan Archipelago; for in the midst of this obscurity Franz was not without uneasiness. Corsica had long since disappeared, and Monte-Cristo itself was invisible; but the sailors seemed, like the lynx, to see in the dark, and the pilot who steered did not evince the slightest hesitation.
An hour had passed since the sun had set, when Franz fancied he saw, at a quarter of a mile to the left, a dark mass, but it was impossible to make out what it was, and fearing to excite the mirth of the sailors, by mistaking a floating cloud for land, he remained silent. Suddenly a great light appeared on the strand; land might resemble a cloud, but the fire was not a meteor.
"What is this light?" asked he.
"Silence!" said the captain; "it is a fire."
"But you told me the isle was uninhabited."
"I said there were no fixed habitations on it; but I said also that it served sometimes as a harbor for smugglers."
"And for pirates?"
"And for pirates," returned Graetano, repeating Franz's words. "It is for that reason I have given orders to pass the isle, for, as you see, the fire is behind us."
"But this fire!" continued Franz. "It seems to me rather to assure than alarm us: men who did not wish to be seen would not light a fire."
"Oh, that goes for nothing," said Graetano. "If you can guess the position of the isle in the darkness, you will see that the fire cannot be seen from the side, or from Pianosa, but only from the open sea."
"You think, then, that this fire announces unwelcome neighbors!"
"That is what we must ascertain," returned Graetano, fixing his eye on this terrestrial star.
"How can you ascertain?"
"You shall see."
Graetano consulted with his companions, and after five minutes' discussion, a manoeuvre was executed which caused the vessel to tack about; they returned the way they had come, and in a few minutes the fire had disappeared, hidden by a rise in the land. The pilot put the helm down and again changed the course of the little bark, which rapidly approached the isle, and was soon within fifty paces of it. Gaetano lowered the sail, and the bark remained stationary. All this was done in silence, and since their course had been changed not a word was spoken.
Gaetano, who had proposed the expedition, had taken all the responsibility on himself; the four sailors fixed their eyes on him, whilst they prepared their oars and, evidently, held themselves in readiness to row away, which, thanks to the darkness, would not be difficult. As for Franz, he examined his arms with the utmost coolness. He had two double-barreled guns and a rifle; he loaded them, looked at the locks, and waited quietly.
During this time the captain had thrown off his vest and shirt and secured his trousers round his waist. His feet were naked, so he had no shoes and stockings to take off. Thus dressed, or undressed, he placed his finger on his lips, to indicate profound silence, and lowering himself noiselessly into the sea, swam toward the shore with such precaution that it was impossible to hear the slightest sound; he could only be traced by the phosphorescent line in his wake. This track soon disappeared; it was evident that he had touched the shore.
Every one on board remained motionless during half an hour, when the same luminous track was again observed, and in two strokes he had regained the bark.
"Well!" exclaimed Franz and the sailors all together.
"They are Spanish smugglers," said he; "they have with them only two Corsican bandits."
"And what are these Corsican bandits doing here with Spanish smugglers?"
"Alas!" returned the captain with an accent of the most profound Christian charity, "we ought always to help one another. Very often the bandits are hard pressed on land by gendarmes or carbineers; well, they see a bark, and good fellows like us on board; they come and demand hospitality of us in our floating house; you can't refuse help to a poor hunted devil; we receive them, and for greater security we stand out to sea. This costs us nothing, and saves the life, or at least the liberty, of a fellow-creature, who on the first occasion returns the service by pointing out some safe spot where we can land our goods without interruption by curious eyes."
"Ah!" said Franz, "then you are a smuggler occasionally, Gaetano?"
"Your excellency, we do a little of everything; we must live some how," returned the other, smiling in a way impossible to describe.
"Then you know the men who are now on Monte-Cristo?"
"Oh, yes; we sailors are like freemasons, and recognize each other by signs."
"And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?"
"Nothing at all! smugglers are not thieves."
"But these two Corsican bandits?" said Franz, calculating beforehand the chances of peril.
"It is not their fault that they are bandits, but that of the authorities."
"How so?"
"Because they are pursued for having made a peau, nothing else, as if it was not in a Corsican's nature to revenge himself."
"What do you mean by having made a peau?—having assassinated a man?" said Franz, continuing his investigation.
"I mean that they have killed an enemy, which is a very different thing," returned the captain.
"Well," said the young man, "let us demand hospitality of these smugglers and bandits. Do you think they will grant it?"
"Without doubt."
"How many are there?"
"Four, and the two bandits make six."
"Just our number, so that if these gentlemen prove troublesome, we shall be able to check them; so, for the last time, steer to Monte-Cristo."
"Yes, but your excellency will permit us to take all due precautions."
"By all means; be as wise as Nestor, and as prudent as Ulysses. I do more than permit, I exhort you."
"Silence, then!" said Gaetano.
Every one obeyed. For a man who, like Franz, viewed his position in its true light, it was, without being dangerous, a grave one.
He was alone in the darkness in the middle of the sea, with sailors whom he did not know, and who had no reason to be devoted to him; who knew that he had in his belt several thousand francs, and who had often examined his arms, which were very beautiful, if not with envy, at least with curiosity. On the other hand, he was about to land without any other escort than these men, on an island whose name was religious, but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him other hospitality than that of Calvary to Christ, thanks to the smugglers and bandits. The history of the scuttled vessels, which had appeared improbable during the day, seemed very probable at night. Placed as he was between two imaginary dangers, he did not quit the crew with his eyes, or his gun with his hand.
However, the sailors had again hoisted the sail, and the vessel was once more cleaving the waves. Through the darkness Franz, whose eyes were now more accustomed to it, distinguished the granite giant by which the bark was sailing, and then turning an angle of the rock, he saw the fire more brilliant than ever, and round it five or six persons were seated. The blaze illumined the sea for a hundred paces round. Gaetano skirted the light, carefully keeping the bark out of its rays; then, when they were opposite the fire, he entered into the center of the luminous circle, singing a fishing song, of which his companions sung the chorus.
At the first words of the song, the men seated round the fire rose and approached the landing-place, their eyes fixed on the bark, of which they evidently sought to judge the force and divine the intention. They soon appeared satisfied, and returned (with the exception of one who remained at the shore) to their fire, at which a whole goat was roasting. When the bark was within twenty paces of the shore, the man on the beach made with his carbine the movement of a sentinel who sees a patrol, and cried, "Who goes there?" in Sardinian.
Franz coolly cocked both barrels. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man, which the traveler did not understand, but which evidently concerned him.
"Will your excellency give your name, or remain incognito?" asked the captain.
"My name must rest unknown," replied Franz; "merely say I am a Frenchman traveling for pleasure."
As soon as Gaetano had transmitted this answer, the sentinel gave an order to one of the men seated round the fire, who rose and disappeared among the rocks. Not a word was spoken, every one seemed occupied, Franz with his disembarkment, the sailors with their sails, the smugglers with their goat; but in the midst of all this carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each other.
The man who had disappeared returned suddenly, on the opposite side to that by which he had left; he made a sign with his head to the sentinel, who, turning to the bark, uttered these words, "S'accomodi." The Italian s'accomodi is untranslatable; it means at once, "Come, enter, you are welcome; make yourself at home; you are the master." It is like that Turkish phrase of Moliere's that so astonished le bourgeois gentilhomme by the number of things it contained.
The sailors did not wait for a second invitation; four strokes of the oar brought them to the land; Gaetano sprang to shore, exchanged a few words in a low tone with the sentinel, then his comrades descended, and lastly came Franz's turn. One of his guns was slung over his shoulder, Gaetano had the other, and a sailor held his rifle; his dress, half artist, half dandy, did not excite any suspicion, and, consequently, no disquietude. The bark was moored to the shore, and they advanced a few paces to find a comfortable bivouac; but, doubtless, the spot they chose did not suit the smuggler who filled the post of sentinel, for he cried out:
"Not that way, if you please."
Gaetano faltered an excuse, and advanced to the opposite side, whilst two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light them on their way.
They advanced about thirty paces, and then stopped at a small esplanade, surrounded with rocks, in which seats had been cut, not unlike sentry-boxes. Around in the crevices of the rocks grew a few dwarf oaks and thick bushes of myrtles. Franz lowered a torch, and saw, by the light of a mass of cinders, that he was not the first to discover this convenient spot, which was, doubtless, one of the halting-places of the wandering visitors of Monte-Cristo.
As for his anticipation of events, once on solid ground, once that he had seen the indifferent, if not friendly, appearance of his hosts, his pre-occupation had disappeared, and at sight of the goat roasting at the bivouac, had turned to appetite. He mentioned this to Gaetano, who replied that nothing could be more easy than to prepare a supper when they had in their boat bread, wine, hah a dozen partridges, and a good fire to roast them by.
"Besides," added he, "if the smell of their roast meat tempts you, I will go and offer them two of our birds for a slice."
"You seem born for negotiation," returned Franz; "go and try."
During this time the sailors had collected dried sticks and branches, with which they made a fire. Franz waited impatiently, smelling the odor of the goat, when the captain returned with a mysterious air.
"Well," said Franz, "anything new?—do they refuse?"
"On the contrary," returned Gaetano, "the chief, to whom they told that you were a young Frenchman, invites you to sup with him."
"Well," observed Franz, "this chief is very polite, and I see no objection—the more so as I bring my share of the supper."
"Oh, it is not that—he has plenty, and to spare, for supper; but he attaches a singular condition to your presentation at his house."
"His house! has he built one here, then?"
"No, but he has a very comfortable one, all the same, so they say."
"You know this chief, then?"
"I have heard talk of him."
"Ill or well?"
"Both."
"The devil!—and what is this condition!"
"That you are blindfolded, and do not take off the bandage until he himself bids you." Franz looked at Gaetano, to see, if possible, what he thought of this proposal. "Ah," replied he, guessing Franz's thought, "I know this merits reflection."
"What should you do in my place?"
"I, who have nothing to lose, I should go."
"You would accept?"
"Yes, were it only out of curiosity."
"There is something very curious about this chief, then?"
"Listen," said Gaetano, lowering his voice, "I do not know if what they say is true " He stopped to look if any one was near. "What do they say?"
"That this chief inhabits a cavern to which the Pitti Palace is nothing."
"What nonsense!" said Franz, reseating himself.
"It is no nonsense; is quite true. Cama, the pilot of the Saint Ferdinand, went in once, and he came back amazed, vowing that such treasures were only to be heard of in fairy tales."
"Do you know," observed Franz, "that with such stories you would make me enter the enchanted cavern of Ali Baba?"
"I tell you what I have been told."
"Then you advise me to accept?"
"Oh, I don't say that; your excellency will do as you please; I should be sorry to advise you in the matter."
Franz reflected a few moments, felt that a man so rich could not have any intention of plundering him of what little he had, and seeing only the prospect of a good supper, he accepted. Gaetano departed with the reply. Franz was prudent, and wished to learn all he possibly could concerning his host. He turned toward the sailor, who, during this dialogue, had sat gravely plucking the partridges with the air of a man proud of his office, and asked him how these men had landed, as no vessel of any kind was visible.
"I never mind that," returned the sailor; "I know their vessel."
"Is it a very beautiful vessel?"
"I would not wish for a better to sail round the world."
"Of what burden is she?"
"About a hundred tons; but she is built to stand any weather. She is what the English call a yacht, but built to keep the sea in all weathers."
"Where was she built?"
"I know not; but my own opinion is she is a Genoese."
"And how did a leader of smugglers," continued Franz, "venture to build a vessel designed for such a purpose at Genoa?"
"I did not say that the owner was a smuggler," replied the sailor.
"No; but Gaetano did, I thought."
"Gaetano had only seen the vessel from a distance; he had not then spoken to any one."
"And if this person be not a smuggler, who is he?"
A wealthy gentleman, who travels for his pleasure."
"Come," thought Franz, "he is still more mysterious, since the two accounts do not agree—what is his name?"
"If you ask him, he says Sindbad the Sailor; but I doubt it being his real name." "Sindbad the Sailor?"
"Yes."
"And where does he reside?"
"On the sea."
"What country does he come from?"
"I do not know."
"Have you ever seen him?"
"Sometimes."
"What sort of a man is he?"
"Your excellency will judge for yourself."
"Where will he receive me?"
"No doubt in the subterranean palace Gaetano told you of."
"Have you never had the curiosity, when you have landed and found this island deserted, to seek for this enchanted palace?"
"Oh, yes, more than once, but always in vain; we examined the grotto all over, but we never could find the slightest trace of any opening; they say that the door is not opened by a key, but a magic word."
"Decidedly," muttered Franz, "this is an adventure of the Arabian Nights."
"His excellency waits for you," said a voice, which he recognized as that of the sentinel. He was accompanied by two of the yacht's crew.
Franz drew his handkerchief from his pocket, and presented it to the man who had spoken to him. Without uttering a word, they bandaged his eyes with a care that showed their apprehensions of his committing some indiscretion. Afterward he was made to promise he would not make the least attempt to raise the bandage. He promised.
Then his two guides took his arms, and he advanced, guided by them, and preceded by the sentinel. After advancing about thirty paces, he smelt the appetizing odor of the kid that was roasting, and knew thus that he was passing the bivouac; they then led him on about fifty paces farther, evidently advancing toward the place, where they would not allow Gaetano to penetrate-a refusal he could now comprehend.
Presently, by a change in the atmosphere, he comprehended that they were entering a cave; after going on for a few seconds more, he heard a crackling, and it seemed to him as though the atmosphere again changed, and became balmy and perfumed. At length his feet touched on a thick and soft carpet, and his guides let go their hold of him. There was a moment's silence, and then a voice, in excellent French, although with a foreign accent, said:
"Welcome, sir. I beg you will remove your bandage."
It may be supposed, then, Franz did not wait for a repetition of this permission, but took off the handkerchief, and found himself in the presence of a man, from thirty-eight to forty years of age, dressed in a Tunisian costume,—that is to say, a red cap with a long blue silk tassel, a vest of black cloth embroidered with gold, pantaloons of deep red, large and full; gaiters of the same color, embroidered with gold, like the vest, and yellow slippers; he had a splendid cachemire round his waist, and a small sharp and crooked cangiar was passed through his girdle.
Although of a paleness that was almost livid, this man had a remarkably handsome face; his eyes were penetrating and sparkling; a nose, quite straight and projecting direct from the brow, gave out the Greek type in all its purity, whilst his teeth, as white as pearls, were set off to admiration by the black mustache that encircled them.
This pallor, however, was so peculiar, that it seemed as though it were that which would be exhibited by a man who had been inclosed for a long time in a tomb, and who was unable to resume the healthy glow and hue of the living. He was not particularly tall, but extremely well made, and, like the men of the South, had small hands and feet. But what astonished Franz, who had treated Gaetano's description as a fable, was the splendor of the apartment.
The entire chamber was lined with Turkish brocade, crimson in hue and worked with flowers of gold. In a recess was a kind of divan, surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver scabbards, and the handles resplendent with gems; from the ceiling hung a lamp of Venice glass, of beautiful shape and color, whilst the feet rested on a Turkey carpet, in which they sunk to the instep; tapestry hung before the door by which Franz had entered, and also in front of another door, leading into a second apartment, which seemed to be brilliantly lighted up.
The host gave Franz time for his surprise, and, moreover, rendered him look for look, not even taking his eyes off him.
"Sir," he said, after some pause, "a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your introduction hither; but as, during the greater portion of the year, this island is deserted, if the secret of this abode were discovered, I should doubtless find on my return my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder, which would be exceedingly annoying, not for the loss it occasioned me, but because I should not have the certainty I now possess of separating myself from all the rest of mankind at pleasure. Let me now endeavor to make you forget this temporary unpleasantness, and offer you what no doubt you did not expect to find here, that is to say, a tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds."
"Ma foi! my dear sir," replied Franz, "make no apologies. I have always observed that they bandage people's eyes who penetrate enchanted palaces,—for instance, those of Raoul in the "Huguenots",—and really I have nothing to complain of, for what I see is a sequel to the wonders of the Arabian Nights."
"Alas! I may say with Lucullus, if I could have anticipated the
honor of your visit, I would have prepared for it. But such as is my hermitage, it is at your disposal; such as is my supper, it is yours to share, if you will. Ali, is the supper ready?" .
At this moment the tapestry moved aside, and a Nubian, black as ebony, and dressed in a plain white tunic, made a sign to his master that all was prepared in the salle-a-manger.
"Now," said the unknown to Franz, "I do not know if you are of my opinion, but I think nothing is more annoying than to remain two or three hours tete-a-tete without knowing by name or appellation how to address one another. Pray observe that I too much respect the laws of hospitality to ask your name or title; I only request you to give me one by which I may have the pleasure of addressing you. As for myself, that I may put you at your ease, I tell you that I am generally called 'Sindbad the Sailor.' "
"And I," replied Franz, "will tell you, as I only require his wonderful lamp to make me precisely like Aladdin, that I see no reason why at this moment I should not be called Aladdin. That will keep us from going away from the East, whither I am tempted to think I have been conveyed by some good genius."
"Well, then, Signor Aladdin," replied the singular Amphitryon, "you heard our repast announced; will you now take the trouble to enter the salle-à-manger, your humble servant going first to show the way?"
At these words, moving aside the tapestry, Sindbad preceded his guest. Franz proceeded from one enchantment to another; the table was splendidly covered, and once convinced of this important point, he cast his eyes around him. The salle-a-nianger was scarcely less striking than the boudoir he had just left; it was entirely of marble, with antique bas-reliefs of priceless value; and at the four corners of this apartment, which was oblong, were four magnificent statues, having baskets on their heads. These baskets contained four pyramids of most splendid fruit: there were the pine-apples of Sicily, pomegranates from Malaga, oranges from the Balearic Isles, peaches from France, and dates from Tunis.
The supper consisted of a roast pheasant, garnished with Corsican blackbirds; a boar's ham a la gelee, a quarter of a kid a la tartare, a glorious turbot, and a gigantic lobster. Between these large dishes were smaller ones containing various dainties. The dishes were of silver, and the plates of Japanese china.
Franz rubbed his eyes in order to assure himself that this was not a dream. Ali alone was present to wait at table, and acquitted himself so admirably that the guest complimented his host thereupon.
"Yes," replied he, whilst he did the honors of the supper with much ease and grace—"yes, he is a poor devil who is much devoted to me, and does all he can to prove it. He remembers I saved his life, and as he has a regard for his head, he feels some gratitude toward me for having kept it on his shoulders."Ali approached his master, took his hand, and kissed it. "Would it be impertinent, Signor Sindbad," said Franz, "to ask you the particulars of this kindness?" "Oh! they are simple enough," replied the host. "It seems the fellow had been caught wandering nearer to the harem of the Bey of Tunis
than etiquette permits to one of his color, and he was condemned by the Bey to have his tongue cut out and his hand and head cut off,—the tongue the first day, the hand the second, and the head the third. I always had a desire to have a mute in my service; so, learning the day his tongue was cut out, I went to the Bey, and proposed to give him for All a splendid double-barreled gun, which I knew he was very desirous of having. He hesitated a moment; he was so very desirous to complete the poor devil's punishment. But when I added to the gun an English cutlass with which I had shivered his highness's yataghan to pieces, the Bey yielded, and agreed to forgive the hand and head, but on condition that he never again was to set foot in Tunis. This was a useless clause, for whenever the coward sees the first glimpse of the shores of Africa, he runs down below, and can only be induced to appear again when we are out of sight of one quarter of the globe."
Franz remained a moment mute and pensive, hardly knowing what to think of the half-kindness, half-cruelty, with which the host related the brief narrative.
"And like the celebrated sailor whose name you have assumed," he said, by way of changing the conversation, "you pass your life in traveling?"
"Yes. I made a vow at a time when I little thought I should ever be able to accomplish it," said the unknown, with a singular smile; "and I made some others also, which I hope I may fulfil in due season."
Although Sindbad pronounced these words with much calmness, his eyes darted gleams of singular ferocity.
"You have suffered a great deal, sir?" said Franz inquiringly.
Sindbad quivered and looked fixedly at him, as he replied, "What makes you suppose so?"
"Everything!" answered Franz,—"your voice, your look, your pallid complexion, and even the life you lead."
"I! I live the happiest life I know; the real life of a pasha. I am king of all creation. I am pleased with one place, and stay there; I get tired of it, and leave it; I am free as a bird, and have wings like one; my attendants obey me at a signal. Sometimes I amuse myself by carrying off from human justice some bandit it is in quest of, some criminal whom it pursues. Then I have my own mode of justice, high or low, with out respite or appeal, which condemns or pardons, and which no one sees. Ah! if you had tasted my life, you would not desire any other, and would never return to the world unless you had some great project to accomplish there."
"A vengeance, for instance!" observed Franz.
The unknown fixed on the young man one of those looks which penetrate into the depth of the heart and thoughts.
"And why a vengeance?" he asked.
"Because," replied Franz, "you seem to me like a man who, persecuted by society, has a fearful account to settle with it."
"Ah!" responded Sindbad, laughing with his singular laugh, which displayed his white and sharp teeth. "You have not guessed rightly! Such as you see me, I am a sort of philosopher, and one day perhaps I shall go to Paris to rival M. Appert, and the man in the little blue cloak."
"And will that be the first time you ever took that journey!"
"Yes, it will! I must seem to you by ne means curious, but I assure
you that it is not my fault I have delayed it so long—it will happen one day or the other."
"And do you propose to make this journey very shortly?
"I do not know; it depends on circumstances which depend on certain arrangements!" "I should like to be there at the time you come, and I will endeavor to repay you, as far as lies in my power, for your liberal hospitality displayed to me at Monte-Cristo."
"I should avail myself of your offer with pleasure," replied the host, "but, unfortunately, if I go there, it will be, in all probability, incognito."
The supper appeared to have been supplied solely for Franz, for the unknown scarcely touched one or two dishes of the splendid banquet, to which his guest did ample justice. Then Ali brought on the dessert, or rather took the baskets from the hands of the statues and placed them on the table.
Between the two baskets he placed a small silver cup, closed with a lid of the same. The care with which Ali placed this cup on the table roused Franz's curiosity. He raised the lid and saw a kind of green ish paste, something like preserved angelica, but which was perfectly unknown to him. He replaced the lid, as ignorant of what the cup contained as he was before he had looked at, and then casting his eyes toward his host he saw him smile at his disappointment.
"You cannot guess," said he, "what there is in that small vase, can you?"
"No, I really cannot."
"Well, then, that kind of green preserve is nothing less than the ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter."
"But," replied Franz, "this ambrosia, no doubt, in passing through mortal hands has lost its heavenly appellation, and assumed a human name; in vulgar phrase, what may you term this composition, for which, to say the truth, I do not feel any particular desire?"
"Ah! thus it is that our material origin is revealed," cried Sindbad; "we frequently pass so near to happiness without seeing, without regarding it, or if we do see and regard it, yet without recognizing it. Are you a man of positive facts, and is gold your god? taste this, and the mines of Peru, Guzerat, and Golconda are opened to you. Are you a man of imagination a poet I taste this, and the boundaries of possibility disappear; the fields of infinite space open to you, you advance free in heart, free in mind, into the boundless realms of reverie. Are you ambitious, and do you seek after the greatness of the earth I taste this, and in an hour you will be a king, not a king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe, like France, Spain, or England, but king of the world, king of the universe, king of creation. Your throne will be built on the high place whence Satan displayed all the kingdoms of the earth, and, without bowing at the feet of Satan, you will be their king and master. Is it not tempting what I offer you, and is it not an easy thing, since it is only to do thus? look!" At these words he uncovered the small cup which contained the sub stance so lauded, took a tea-spoonful of the magic sweetmeat, raised it to his lips, and swallowed it slowly, with his eyes half shut and his head bent backward. Franz did not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite bonne louche, but when he finished, he inquired:
"What, then, is this precious stuff?"
"Did you ever hear," he replied, "of the Old Man of the Mountain, who attempted to assassinate Phillippe Auguste?"
"Of course, I have."
"Well, you know he reigned over a rich valley which was overhung by the mountain whence he derived his picturesque name. In this val ley were magnificent gardens planted by Hassen-ben-Sabah, and in these gardens were isolated pavilions. Into these pavilions he admitted the elect; and there, says Marco Polo, gave them to eat a certain herb, which transported them to Paradise, in the midst of ever-blooming shrubs, ever-ripe fruit, and ever-lovely virgins. But what these happy persons took for reality was but a dream; but it was a dream so soft, so voluptuous, so enthralling, that they sold themselves, body and soul, to him who gave it to them; and obedient to his orders as those of a deity, struck down the marked victim, died in torture without a murmur; believing that the death they underwent was but a quick transition to that life of delights of which the holy herb, now before you, had given them a slight foretaste."
"Then," cried Franz, "it is hashish! I know that by name at least."
"That is it, precisely, Signor Aladdin; it is hashish the purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria, the hashish of Abou-Gror, the celebrated maker, the only man, the man to whom there should be built a palace, inscribed with these words, A grateful world to the dealer in happiness."
"Do you know," said Franz, "I have a very great inclination to judge for myself of the truth or exaggeration of your eulogies."
"Judge for yourself, Signor Aladdin judge, but do not confine yourself to one trial. Like everything else, we must habituate the senses to a fresh impression, gentle or violent, sad or joyous. There is a struggle in nature against this divine substance, in nature which is not made for joy and clings to pain. Nature subdued must yield in the combat; the reality must succeed to the dream, and then the dream reigns supreme; then the dream becomes life, and life becomes the dream. But what changes occur! It is only by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the assumed existence that you would desire to live no longer, but to dream thus forever. When you return to the mundane sphere from your visionary world, you would seem to leave a Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter—to quit paradise for earth—heaven for hell! Taste the hashish, guest of mine—taste the hashish."
Franz's only reply was to take a tea-spoonful of the marvelous preparation, about as much in quantity as his host had eaten, and lift it to his mouth.
"Diable!" he said, after having swallowed the divine preserve. "I do not know if the result will be as agreeable as you describe, but the thing does not appear to me as succulent as you say."
"Because your palate has not yet attained the sublimity of the substance it tastes. Tell me, the first time you tasted oysters, tea, porter, truffles, and sundry other dainties which you now adore, did you like them I Could you comprehend how the Romans stuffed their pheasants with assafoetida, and the Chinese eat swallows' nests? Eh! no! Well, it is the same with hashish; only eat it for a week, and nothing in the world will seem to you to equal the delicacy of its flavor, which now appears to you sleepy and distasteful. Let us now go into the chamber beside you, which is your apartment, and Ali will bring us coffee and pipes."
They both arose, and whilst he who called himself Sindbad, and whom we have occasionally named so, that we might, like his guest, have some title by which to distinguish him,—gave some orders to the servant, Franz entered the adjoining apartment.
It was more simply yet still richly furnished. It was round, and a large divan completely incircled it. Divan, walls, ceiling, floor, were all covered with magnificent skins as soft and downy as the richest carpets; there were skins of the lions of Atlas with their large manes, skins of the Bengal tigers with their warm stripes; skins of the panthers of the Cape, spotted beautifully, like those that appeared to Dante; skins of the bears of Siberia, the foxes of Norway. And all these skins were strewn in profusion one on the other, so that it seemed like walking over the most mossy turf, or reclining on the most luxurious bed.
Both laid themselves down on the divan; chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouth-pieces were within reach, and all prepared so that there was no need to smoke the same pipe twice. Each of them took one, which Ali lighted, and then retired to prepare the coffee.
There was a moment's silence, during which Sindbad gave himself up to thoughts that seemed to occupy him incessantly, even in the midst of his conversation; and Franz abandoned himself to that mute reverie, into which we always sink when smoking excellent tobacco, which seems to remove with its fume all the troubles of the mind, and to give the smoker in exchange all the visions of the soul. Ali brought in the coffee.
"How do you take it?" inquired the unknown,—"à la Française or à la Turque, strong or weak, sugar or none, cool or boiling? As you please; it is ready in all ways."
"I will take it à la Turque," replied Franz.
"And you are right," said his host; "it shows you have a tendency for an Oriental life. Ah! those Orientals; they are the only men who
know how to live. As for me," he added, with one of those singular smiles which did not escape the young man, "when I have completed my affairs in Paris, I shall go and die in the East; and should you wish to see me again, you must seek me at Cairo, Bagdad, or Ispahan."
"Ma foi!" said Franz, "it would be the easiest thing in the world; for I feel eagle's wings springing out at my shoulders, and with these wings I could make a tour of the world in four-and-twenty hours."
"Ah! ah! it is the hashish that is operating. Well, unfurl your wings, and fly into superhuman regions. Fear nothing, there is a watch over you; and if your wings, like those of Icarus, melt before the sun, we are here to receive you."
He then said some Arabian words to Ali, who made a sign of obedi ence and withdrew, but not to any distance.
As to Franz, a strange transformation had taken place in him. All the bodily fatigue of the day, all the pre-occupation of mind which the events of the evening had brought on, disappeared, as they would at that first feeling of sleep, when we are still sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. His body seemed to acquire an immaterial lightness, his perception brightened in a remarkable manner, his senses seemed to redouble their power, the horizon continued to expand; but it was not that gloomy horizon over which a vague alarm prevails, and which he had seen before he slept, but a blue, transparent, unbounded horizon, with all the blue of the ocean, all the spangles of the sun, all the perfumes of the summer breeze; then, in the midst of the songs of his sailors,—songs so clear and sounding that they would have made a divine harmony had their notes been taken down,—he saw the isle of Monte-Cristo, no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the waves, but as an oasis lost in the desert; then, as the bark approached, the songs became louder, for an enchanting and mysterious harmony rose to heaven from this island, as if some fay-like Loreley, or some enchanter like Amphion, had decreed to attract thither a soul or build there a city.
At length the bark touched the shore, but without effort, without shock, as lips touch lips; and he entered the grotto amidst continued strains of most delicious melody. He descended, or rather seemed to descend, several steps, inspiring the fresh and balmy air, like that which may be supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe, formed from such perfumes as set the mind a-dreaming, and such fires as burn the very senses; and he saw again all he had seen before his sleep, from Sindbad, his singular host, to Ali, the mute attendant; then all seemed to fade away and become confused before his eyes, like the last shadows of the magic lantern before it is extinguished; and he was again in the chamber of statues, lighted only by one of those pale and antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the sleep of pleasure.
They were the same statues, rich in form, in attraction and poesy, with eyes of fascination, smiles of love, and "bright and flowing hair." They were Phryne, Cleopatra, Messalina, those three celebrated courtesans. Then amongst these shameless shadows glided like a pure ray, like a Christian angel in the midst of Olympus, one of those chaste figures, those calm, soft visions, which seemed to veil its virgin brow before these marble wantons.
Then, so seemed it to him, these three statues advanced toward him with looks of love, and approached the couch on which he was reposing, their feet hidden in their long tunics, their throats bare, hair flowing like waves, and assuming attitudes which the gods could not resist, but which saints withstood, and looks inflexible and ardent like the serpent's on the bird; and then he gave way before these looks as painful as a powerful grasp and as delighful as a kiss.
It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes, and thought that in the last look he gave he saw the modest statue completely veiled; and then with his eyes closed upon all nature his senses awoke to impossible impressions, to dreams like those promised by the prophet to his elect; the more he struggled to repulse this unknown power, the more his senses submitted to its charm, and he sank back, breathless and exhausted, under the painful yet delicious enthrallment produced by the hashish, whose enchantment had brought up this marvelous and thrilling vision.